


The Red String of Fate: Interlude

by AzureSummoner



Series: The Red String of Fate [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consent Issues (see notes), Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-consensual Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, please read the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureSummoner/pseuds/AzureSummoner
Summary: Emet-Selch revels in his victory.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: The Red String of Fate [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679860
Comments: 17
Kudos: 136





	1. Interlude (EX)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emet-Selch revels in his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set within the weeks following The Red String of Fate, before the upcoming sequel (expect that to start after 5.2 drops).
> 
> **WARNING** Emet-Selch does some terrible things in this chapter. Please mind the tags! The WoL does not consent to what happens (without her knowledge), and the Exarch + Scions certainly do not consent to what happens to them. If this squicks you out please, please avoid this chapter.
> 
> If you feel that I need to amend the tags or the warning, please do let me know in the comments.

He enjoys her feistiness, yes, but he thinks he likes it best when she drops her pretenses and surrenders to him so completely. It  _ does _ things to him. Ignites some primitive, feral  _ need _ to possess every part of her. With the way she is now, kneeled before him in submission with her plush, wet lips wrapped around the head of his cock, it takes every onze of Hades' meticulously manicured control to  _ not _ throw her into bed and fuck her through the mattress.

Less than a fortnight since his lover has been returned to his side, with most of their time spent whiling away the hours in bed. In physical intimacy, in shared recollections of the past, in stories of her adventures. There is so much lost time to make up for, though it will never be enough. Hades knows that he cannot confine his dearest Warrior forever, nor would he dream of it. Yet this world remains a danger to her, at least until he has settled certain… matters.

The Warrior doesn't know about his private visits to the Exarch while she traveled the First. He thinks he'll keep them as his little secret. Sweet thing that his precious Warrior is, she harbors sympathy for these  _ mortals _ . He'll have to work on that. But oh, how Hades did delight in provoking that man, watching him writhe with thinly veiled jealousy as he described the pleasures that the Exarch would never know. How soothing it is to hold her while she warms his bed. The honeyed taste of her on his tongue. The delicious way she moans for him as he fucks her, slow and deep. 

How  _ dare _ that man lust after  _ his _ Warrior. She is  _ his _ partner,  _ his _ bride,  _ his soulmate _ , for now and forever more. 

"You're so quiet," she murmurs below him, peering up at him through her thick eyelashes. "What are you thinking?"

Oh, darling woman. She's so insecure in her efforts to please him. Hades gazes upon her fondly and slips one of the silken gloves off of his hand, reaching out to run his bared fingers through her hair, lightly grazing her scalp with his nails. He's never been the best at vocalizing his feelings but he does his best to  _ show _ her, in the ways he holds her, touches her, makes love to her. She is the only one he has ever  _ wanted _ and he struggles to convey just  _ how much _ she means to him, but he'll try. 

"I'm thinking of how happy you make me," he says. "How lovely you are, and how very much I have missed you."

A pretty blush colors her cheeks and she smiles before taking him back into her mouth. Hades groans in appreciation as she bobs her head along his shaft. He sighs when her tongue crests his tip, flicking out to lap up the beading precum. He grins wickedly as a sinful idea springs to mind.

"You do so well at pleasing me, my love,” he speaks softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I could watch you suck on my cock all day, but right now I want to hear you screaming my name.” 

She whines in protest but stills her movements, letting Hades slide out of her mouth. He takes her by the chin and tilts her gaze until she’s watching him.

“Go lay on the bed,” he orders. She shivers under his touch, but slowly rises and does as she is told. 

Hades knows that he'll need to do something about the Exarch, sooner rather than later, he thinks. That man is far too late to save the Warrior, but his ability to summon souls through the rift can’t be left unchecked. Hades hates cliches, but the Exarch cannot be suffered to live. That doesn’t mean that he won’t make him as miserable as possible, first.

He smirks, more to himself, as he sheds his layers of clothing and kneels over top of his beloved. She's more than eager to help him undress herself, and when he slips his fingers between her legs he can't help the swell of his ego when he finds her soaked. 

_ Of course she is _ , he thinks. She never could stand to touch him without getting herself hot.

"This has almost healed," Hades says, kissing the fading bruise on her neck. He smiles against her skin. "Shall I give you another?"

"Couldn't I have something more romantic, like a ring?" she protests, giving a slight pout. Hades freezes, taken aback. 

"...Do you  _ want _ a ring?"

"Oh, Hades! You declared me your wife without giving me a Bonding ceremony. You at least owe me this."

Zodiark, help him. He feels as though he has swallowed a butterfly. She actually  _ wants _ a formal declaration of his possession. He's going to burn out from within at this rate. 

"Are you alright?" she queries. Too late, Hades realizes that he's grinning stupidly, like a sentimental fool. She has no idea what effect she has on him. 

"Darling, I will give you everything you want… but could we discuss this later? Right now I am  _ trying _ to properly fuck you." 

She lolls her head back, clutches at his shoulders and  _ moans _ so wonderfully when he dips his fingers inside her. Hades has plans, and he needs his lover focused for her part in this performance. He’s forced to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smirking and giving himself away. She would  _ kill _ him if she knew what he has in store. He’ll just have to make sure that she doesn’t find out.

“Mmm, you’re so wet for me already,” he murmurs against his Warrior’s mouth, pleased to tease a needy whine out of her when he curls his fingers and strokes, oh so slowly. It doesn’t take much until she’s grinding against his hand, but she will need to ask for what she wants. “Tell me what you want, love. Tell me how you need me.”

“Hades, please,” she pants, scraping her nails along his chest. “I want… I want you inside of me.”

He leers down at her, relishing in the way her eyes light up when he slides his fingers from her and brings them to his lips. She thinks she’s getting what she wants. Poor thing.

“Lackluster, my darling,” he taunts her, flicking his tongue out to taste her wetness. She’s always been shy about this, and he thrills at how her cheeks redden while she watches him. Hades gives her a show, sucking each finger into his mouth and licking them clean. “I think I will sample your delights until you convince me otherwise.”

She looks mildly panicked as he slides down her body, trailing his hands along her sides until he reaches her thighs. She averts her gaze when Hades spreads her legs apart. Well now, that won't do.

"Coy thing," he teases, kissing her hip bone, her inner thigh. "How eager you are to swallow my seed, but when it's  _ my _ turn you want to shy away."

She squirms, but easily being the stronger of the two he simply locks her into place against his shoulders. She won’t be going anywhere now, or at least not until Hades hears what he’s waiting for. How depraved can he make his little Warrior? He intends to find out. 

She bites her lip to repress a squeal when she feels the wet warmth of Hades' mouth on her. The gentle scratch of his tongue against her clit, the slick strokes against her lower lips. He sucks and nibbles until she begins to break, taking smug satisfaction in the way she twists her hands into the sheets. She  _ loves _ what he does to her, even if she would rather die of embarrassment than admit it. Hades hums in amusement as he teases the tip of his tongue along her entrance, she's trying  _ so hard _ to stay quiet but the little huffs and sighs are more frequent now, and her cheeks are stained a lovely shade of pink. He trails a broad, wet stroke back up to her clit before slipping a finger inside of her, soon followed by a second. He'll make her cry out, one way or another. 

"Ah… Ha… Hades…" she gasps, finally brave enough to look at him. "Stop… I want to feel you…"

_ Not good enough _ , he decides, grazing his teeth gently along the sensitive nub at her apex.

"Oh god… just… take me already!" she cries, squirming against his hold. She'll have to do better than that. 

But wait. Something has changed in the way she looks at him. When Hades meets her eyes it's not the shy little maiden he expected to find. Oh dear. 

“Ha-Hades, please!” she cries, reaching to thread her fingers through his hair. “I want… I  _ need _ to feel you… throbbing inside of me as you take your pleasure.”

“I need you… to  _ fuck _ me, Hades… no… most honorable Emet-Selch! Please, fuck me like you own me!” Oh, Zodiark. Hades feels himself  _ twitch _ at those words. She’s clawed her way into him, now. Then she pulls on his hair, and continues while flashing the barest hint of a devilish grin. “Fill me, Emet-Selch, I want to be left  _ dripping _ with--”

“Enough!” he snarls, nipping at her inner thigh. That gets a pained yelp from her, is sure to leave a mark, but it shuts her up. If she had kept going he would have come undone right there, and  _ then _ where would his plans be? 

She, however, isn’t done with him just yet.  _ Of course _ she’s not, once she’s figured out what makes him tick she can never let it go. It is as vexing as it is endearing, and there is no one else, not from Amaurot, not in this lifetime nor in any other, that Hades would tolerate it from. As soon as he releases her she’s climbing to her knees to grab at him, laughing as she leans in to swipe her tongue across his lips and clean up the mess that he’s made of himself. Even as she tastes herself in his mouth she’s pushing him, and she doesn’t stop pushing until he falls over onto his back.

“What are you --” he tries to ask, but she’s already straddling his hips and has captured the  _ Little Emperor _ in her hand. 

“Now tell me love, who do you  _ really _ want me to scream for as I ride you?” she taunts, low and sultry, and she wears the wickedest grin. “Do you want to hear your name, Hades, or would you prefer I come for  _ Emet-Selch _ ?”

He’s not sure that she’ll get the chance for either as he nearly loses his control for a second time that night. But no, it’s perfect.  _ She _ is perfect, and as she takes him inside of her Hades is quick to snare his beautiful Warrior and drag her down to slide his tongue into her mouth. She will most  _ definitely  _ kill him for this.

\--------------------------------------------

G’raha Tia has spent many of his waking hours (and quite a few in his nightmares) searching for the Warrior of Light. Though less than a fortnight has passed since her disappearance, clues to her whereabouts remain elusive. The only surety is that she is in Emet-Selch’s captivity.

The Leveilleur twins have taken to the field, while Ryne assists Urianger in the library. Any lead, no matter how insignificant it may seem, could be the key to finding the Warrior. 

“There have been no marked changes among the Sin Eater population,” Thancred states. He and Y’shtola have returned to the Ocular to deliver their own findings, which are woefully few. “They continue to congregate among Mt. Gulg, where Vauthry continues to hide.”

“And no news from the Night’s Blessed?” the Exarch queries. He expects as much, but Y’shtola merely shakes her head.

“Nay. I had hoped to glean something by studying the ancient murals we found during our journey, but I have found no more than what Emet-Selch told us.”

“Then we remain at an impasse…” the Exarch admits, careful to withhold a sigh of frustration. It has taken enough effort to maintain the Scion’s spirits this far, he cannot afford to slip. Not now.

“What’s that?” Thancred asks, gesturing to the wall behind G’raha Tia. The crystal, the window through which the Exarch often peers, glows with life. G’raha Tia can feel the fine hairs at the back of his neck stand on end, for it is not by his power that it awakens.

It takes a moment for reality to catch up to the gunbreaker’s brain as he processes the images assaulting his senses. He cries out the Warrior’s name before he grasps that she is  _ smiling _ , and that she lay tangled among the sheets with…

“ _ EMET-SELCH _ !!” he rages, restrained only by Y’shtola as he attempts to fling himself toward the crystal mirror. While the Miqo’te cannot see what has incensed her comrade so, the labored breaths and the lustful cries make it undeniably clear what is occurring.

The Warrior of Light still lives. And she has been completely enthralled by the enemy.

Thancred wrenches himself free with a regrettable amount of force, but it is already too late. The crushing scene dissipates as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the silver-haired man panting and in a cold sweat as he attempts to clamp down on the roiling emotions inside of him. That the Warrior lives grants a glimmer of hope, but to see her so  _ willing _ … No, he refuses to believe it. It makes the idea that she is being held as the Ascian’s  _ slave _ all the more horrifying, but Thancred knows what it is like to fall under their spell. 

He chances a look at Y’shtola, and near crumbles at the heartbroken look upon her face. She has done well to hold as much of her composure as she has thus far, but he knows her. She is one of his closest friends, and he knows this has cut her deep. But what of the Exarch? He has remained silent for all of this time, what could he possibly... 

Thancred has seen Y'shtola when she's mad, and sometimes when she is  _ livid _ . But he has never witnessed a Miqo'te that looks as feral as G'raha Tia does now, with his eyes wide and wild, and his fanged teeth bared. The Exarch rakes his fingers against the now silent crystal screen and shakes with what Thancred can only assume is the same rage that boils at his core.

G'raha Tia seethes in silent fury at what he has been forced to witness. Damn that Emet-Selch, he  _ knows _ that the Ascian has done this to rub salt in his wounds. A petty dig at the Exarch himself. He also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his Warrior has not chosen this. Even as she returns Emet-Selch's kisses and cries out for him, the Exarch  _ knows _ that she has not betrayed them like this. Whatever the Ascian has done to her, he will find a way to undo it. He will not abandon her to a fate as that bastard's  _ plaything _ . G'raha Tia will rescue the Warrior of Light and bring her back to herself, whatever the cost may be. And he will never,  _ never _ forgive Emet-Selch.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt really weird writing that last scene there, but once again my new enabling friends have... well, enabled me. Please insert the :blobfearsweat: emoji here, because that is perpetually me.
> 
> If you are a writer and/or enjoy FFXIV fics, come join a very friendly and enabling group: https://discord.gg/ftFnYbe
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @AzureSummoner


	2. Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades keeps a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more short chapter before 5.2.

She hasn’t stopped admiring the delicate band since Hades slipped it onto her finger. Never before has she seen a metal so black. Even the rare black-gold castings that sometimes pass through the goldsmith’s guild fail to achieve a tint so dark, and the material is far more sturdy than gold besides. Hades assures her that she could mine through all of the First and the Source combined and she will not unearth such a mineral. But the Warrior is ever curious, and having established a reputation as a fine craftswoman herself, she cannot let this pass without learning Hades’ secrets. It takes relentless prodding to crack his defenses (he is just as stubborn, if not moreso, than she is) but eventually he cannot suffer the aggravation any longer, and he breaks. She is deeply shocked when he reveals that he reclaimed the material from the remains of Amaurot -- the _true_ Amaurot -- until he explains that traces of the ruined city still remain on the First. There is an air of melancholy around him as he says this, but then he smiles and assures the Warrior that nothing else would do for this symbol of his devotion to her.

Intricate florals climb the sides of the band to reach one central bloom of black petals surrounding a vibrant red gemstone, and flecked throughout the flowery details are smaller rubies of no perfect shape. Not oblong nor circular, and unlike any standardized gemstone cut that the Warrior has ever seen.

“They remind me of something,” she ponders, twisting her wrist this way and that to observe the ring at every angle. Finally, she decides, “they are like… pomegranate seeds.” 

Hades merely hums in assent. He’s far too comfortable to do much else, reclined in the grass with his head resting on his lover’s lap. If it weren’t for the periodic little noises he makes in reply, or the gentle twitch of his eyelids while the Warrior plays with his hair, she would think him asleep. 

While Hades rests, her hands are not idle. The flowers that she weaves together are otherworldly in their quality: luminescent and vibrantly fragrant, much hardier than their counterparts found throughout Eorzea. Red and pink anemones, baby’s breath, purple statice, and eucalyptus. She’s had to ask for them specifically -- the Amaurot that she remembers was filled with flowers, but this reproduction is oddly lacking in them. Hades somewhat abashedly admitted that the omission was intentional. Flowers had always been closely associated with, well, _her_ , and if she wasn’t here then what was the point? But now that the Warrior is at his side, he would gladly fill the streets with them if she would only ask. 

There’s something in that admission that nags at a memory deep in her being, a soul-deep recollection that refuses to let itself be known. Like other things that she feels she _should_ remember it remains locked away, or it doesn’t exist. Hades might have the answer, but… she feels that she must string together the right thoughts before presenting him with the question.

He lazily squints up at the woman when he feels an unfamiliar weight come to rest around his temples. The scent of flowers is heavy in the air, and as he slowly sits up he raises a hand to touch at the crown that now adorns his head. The Warrior is practically beaming at her handiwork, but that exuberance soon fades to worry at the man’s stiff expression. 

“Have I upset you?” she asks, leaning over to reach for the wreath. “I-I didn’t mean to--”

Hades, instead, catches her by the hand and drags her into his embrace. It’s a bit awkward, being on their knees, and she mostly falls into his chest but he pulls her close so that her cheek is pressed against his shoulder. 

“You never could let me enjoy a moment's peace without something like this,” he says, burying his face into her hair. "How I've missed it."

“That’s not what you used to say,” she laughs, but his answer seems to satisfy her. She relaxes and lets herself be held while the Shades pass them by on the sidewalks, not sparing a second glance. Soon however she lifts and flexes her hand, still entranced by the sparkle of the band on her finger. The only complaint she's had is that the fit is a bit snug, but Hades found some way to half-convince her that she must never have had a properly fitted ring before. He’d much prefer that she struggle to take it off, if at all.

“I bet it would shine most brilliantly in the real sunlight,” she comments, wiggling out of his embrace to have another look at the odd, undulating sky. He’s not yet revealed their precise location, but she knows well enough that they are somewhere under the water. How he has maintained both this unnatural pocket of air and his replica Amaurot for some amount of time is frightening in its implications. Yet, for all of its grandiose architecture and approximation to the true metropolis, there are scattered reminders that this is merely a dream. The flowers, for one, but there are other small details that are jarring when noticed. The faces on all of the clocks blur if one looks too closely, and every book that she’s picked up is filled with blank pages. 

She silently repeats her last few thoughts to herself. A dream? No, what is she thinking? This place is a waking nightmare. The same nightmare that has plagued her kin for twelve thousand years while she drifted comfortably in the lifestream, until Hydaelyn called her spirit forth to strike down her allies. Nabriales. Igeyorhm. Lahabrea. As one of the unsundered his fate was the most troublesome, for though he was slain by Thordan’s hand and not her own, he suffered a true soul death, never to rise again. 

Slain by Thordan’s hand. And before that was Tupsimati. There are forces other than the Warrior of Light which can destroy an Ascian’s soul, and those are only examples from the Source. Why hasn’t she thought of this sooner? Surely Hades knows, but she has been with him for weeks, and after he laughed off the Scions and their white auracite she did not press him further. What if there is a power on the First that might pose a threat? If such a power exists, they cannot take the risk that the Scions will find it. They may be mortals, but she has lived among them and fought alongside them, and she knows better than anyone that they are a resourceful and clever lot. Something must be done before… She’s roused from her thoughts by large hands on her shoulders, and coyly spins around to face Hades. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, brows knit in concern. She doesn’t want to have this talk just now. Tomorrow, yes. Tomorrow is better. Let them have one last night without Hydaelyn or Scions or any other troubles beyond this literal bubble under the ocean. 

“Let’s take a walk,” she says, dodging his question. It’s been her preferred method of winding down in the evenings, exploring the streets of the city, reminiscing on ~~new~~ old memories. The Warrior twines her fingers with the flower-crowned Emperor and leads him along a well familiar path, the street they must have walked a hundred thousand times together in their days at the Akadaemia. Hades has forbidden her from entering the actual building ( _“‘tis nothing for you beyond those doors,”_ he’d warned) but it’s still one of her favorite places to reflect on. There were many happy days spent making mischief and attempting to rope Hades and Hythlodaeus into her schemes. She was a bright student, exceptionally creative, but her penchant for merry-making sometimes preceded her. Oh, how her peers had been shocked to learn of her appointment to the Convocation! And then… there is that bothersome thought again. She is on the cusp of discovery, if she could pry just a bit more…

“You haven’t told me when you found the time to make this,” she mentions, wiggling her ring finger in display. 

“While you slept,” Hades shrugs, rolling his eyes at the amused snort that earns him. “Believe what you will, but in truth I’m not sure which of us is the heavier sleeper.”

He pauses when she releases his hand and continues to walk on without him, only a few fulms away while she considers something. She stops and stares off into the distance for a moment, idly twisting the ring on her finger. Debating, in silence. When she at last turns back to Hades her expression is strangely sober, compared with her earlier amusement. He looks almost afraid of what she might say until she speaks.

“After I joined the Convocation… did we marry?”

The light that shines behind his eyes goes cold at once when the Warrior grabs her temples and falls to her knees. Before Hades can reach her he sees her aether _flicker_. It terrifies him. But as soon as he’s laid his hands upon her the moment has passed, and other than mild disorientation she claims to be no worse for the wear.

“F-forgive me,” she murmurs, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “I know you told me not to force it, but I wanted… to remember…”

Tempered though he may be, Hades can curse his lord for at least this much. He mutters something, burning at the core to know that she has been denied this. He would never lie to her, but telling her of _his_ happy memories is no better than weaving a story. It’s not the same as if she could remember for _herself_ . Their bonding occurred long before Zodiark came into play, why should his lord omit _this_ , of all things, from her memories? Has he not been a faithful enough servant through the countless lifetimes he has lived?

She’s worried. She’s brushing her thumb along his jaw and she’s worried about him. He’s so aggravated that he’s unknowingly lapsed into his native tongue as he curses Zodiark under his breath. Hades gathers her smaller hands into his and presses his lips to her forehead, a silent assurance that things are alright. 

The evening grows late, and he’s still unnerved by that deviation in her aether. She makes a small noise of protest when he pulls her to her feet and lifts her into his arms, but it’s not the first time he’s carried her home like this. The Shades pay them no mind, simply converse in quiet groups about the coming of the end days. This reproduction of Amaurot has served its purpose. There’s no reason to linger for much longer. Hades has unfinished business with the Exarch, mayhaps after that they should return to the Source. It will take time for Lightwardens to repopulate the First, and Elidibus will be after him soon to set right the disruption he’s caused to his precious _balance_. 

There are a great many things that he and the Warrior shall need to discuss in the coming days. But, it can wait for tomorrow.

Hades sighs wistfully as the scent of flowers lingers in the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are a writer and/or enjoy FFXIV fics, come join a very friendly and enabling group: https://discord.gg/ftFnYbe
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @AzureSummoner


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